


These Dreams of You

by katunafish_sandwiche



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Canon Asexual Character, Consent, Good Cows, Kissing, Knitting, M/M, Making Out, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Mutual Masturbation, Set in Episodes 159-160 | Scottish Safehouse Period (The Magnus Archives), Sex Dreams, Sex Talk, Trans, Trans Martin, asexual jon, knitting kink, knitting phobia, lip biting, neck kisses, scottish safehouse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-08
Updated: 2021-02-08
Packaged: 2021-03-14 03:14:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,864
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29288901
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/katunafish_sandwiche/pseuds/katunafish_sandwiche
Summary: “Come here,” he murmured, pausing in his needlework to reach out a hand, his gaze intent on Martin. He grabbed his hand and pulled him close when he drew near.Martin laughed, just a small rush of air from his lungs as Jon pulled him until he was sitting on his lap and then wrapped the partially formed scarf around Martin’s neck.“Hm, still a little too short.”Martin’s breath caught in his throat. “It’s for me?”“No, I’m just modeling it on you. Course it’s for you. You never dress warmly enough except for those jumpers.”“I do too,” Martin retorted, smiling, and then froze as he felt Jon’s hand wander down his chest and underneath the hem of his jumper, fingers stroking the soft belly under his shirt.“Do you like it?” Jon asked, his hand reaching around his hip to run up his back.Martin nodded faintly, unsure if he meant the scarf or his touch. Both. It was both.
Relationships: Jonathan Sims/Martin Blackwood
Comments: 8
Kudos: 71





	These Dreams of You

**Author's Note:**

> Yes, that's a Van Morrison song quote in the title.

“Martin...there was something I wanted to talk to you about.”

“Mmhm?” Martin murmured, slightly distracted as he reached a hand out over the fence to pet the furry head of a Highland cow, it’s copper brown hair hanging just over its eyes in a lovely fringe.

“I just, it’s just that I’ve noticed some nights...that you, well,” Jon stumbled trying to collect his thoughts, hands fidgeting together. He took a breath, looking out over the misty hills surrounding them and jumped at the feeling as Martin placed a hand suddenly on his shoulder, then slowly melted into the touch.

“It’s alright, Jon. What is it?”

Jon glanced back from the pearly fog pouring over the hills to find Martin smiling at him gently and found his heart doing a sort of tumbling lurch in his chest, which did nothing to steady his nerves. Still he tried again.

“You seem...very restless. At night.”

Martin froze, his smile slipping a little.

“I don’t want you to think that I’m just sitting up all night staring at you. But it’s hard not to notice when...it happens?”

“Jon, it’s fine. It’s just the nightmares, you know? They still come every now and then.”

Jon snorted. “As worrisome as I find it that you seem to think that nightmares are nothing to be concerned about, that’s not what I’m talking about. I know it’s not nightmares. I can’t wake you up from nightmares. This is different. The sounds are different, whatever these dreams are about. And when I touch you, you respond to it. It brings you out of it.”

Martin nodded, head turning back to focus on the cow who was now feasting on the lush grass growing along the fenceline. All the better to hide the blush that was now rushing to his cheeks.

It had been a particularly vivid dream last night. He remembered the feel of Jon in his arms, the warmth of him, his lips as he kissed up his neck; then the sensation of him pressing his mouth fully to his, his tongue slipping inside, sounds escaping him, one hand in his hair, the other buried deep between his legs, those delicate fingers moving on him, moving, moving in just the way he liked. He’d felt it so intensely, the pleasurable ache building inside until he could take no more. That was the first time he’d climaxed in his sleep and he’d woken with a gasp at the touch of Jon’s hand on his arm, the shock of waking into the present, and then the horrified thought that he might have actually been moaning and thrashing in the throes of his dreams.

Apparently he had.

He hitched up a bright smile as he turned back to Jon, begging inwardly for his face to cool even while it continued to redden as he looked into Jon’s eyes. Jon whom he loved so much, whom he woke up next to every day. Jon who would sweetly kiss him on the cheek as they made dinner together side by side. He sometimes couldn’t quite grasp that they were here, that Jon actually loved him back.

The dream burst forth once more into his mind’s eye and he willed it back, back to his subconscious, breathing deeply to steady himself.

 _Don’t fuck this up_ , he told himself sternly.

“It’s fine, honestly Jon. You don’t need to worry.”

He waited as Jon bit his lip and stared back at him in that same intense way that Martin had learned to love with a glowing warmth in his chest, a relaxed melting feeling in his limbs. The look that made him feel seen, made him feel connected to this world.

“Alright,” he sighed, though there was a hesitation in his voice that suggested that he was tempted to probe further.

“What do you think we should make for supper?” he asked instead, taking Martin’s hand as they headed back towards the cottage in the fading light.

Martin took a moment to think.

Curry?” his voice squeaked out, too high to be heard as normal.

Jon paused to look at him again, and then smiled and nodded.

“Sounds good,” he said and they walked on, Martin’s breath coming out shaky and slow, relieved that the subject had finally been dropped.

He just had to hope that the dreams wouldn’t continue.

“Wouldn’t have ever thought of you as a knitter.”

Jon smirked, looking up from where he sat on the faded, broken down settee, his gaze breaking from the scarf slowly forming in his hands. His hands never stopped moving even as he looked at Martin.

“Why? Dark, brooding Archivist doesn’t quite fit with the hobby description?”

Martin laughed, shrugging. “Well...yeah.”

He could hear the clicking of the needles as he’d finished up the curry and set it on low to simmer on the stove. He now stood leaning against the doorway, arms crossed over his chest watching him, mesmerized.

Jon was smiling now. “My grandmother taught me when I was younger. It was one of the few activities we did together. And it did help sometimes when my restlessness got too great. Helped with my stress during university too. It’s soothing, you know? Making something, keeping your hands busy.”

Martin nodded. “I suppose so. My mum never taught me any of that kind of stuff. She didn’t really have the patience for it, and later just didn’t have the strength or dexterity for it even if she’d wanted to.”

“I’ll teach you sometime.”

“What about now?”

“Sometime.”

There was a brightness in Jon’s eyes.

“Come here,” he murmured, pausing in his needlework to reach out a hand, his gaze intent on Martin. He grabbed his hand and pulled him close when he drew near.

Martin laughed, just a small rush of air from his lungs as Jon pulled him until he was sitting on his lap and then wrapped the partially formed scarf around Martin’s neck.

“Hm, still a little too short.”

Martin’s breath caught in his throat. “It’s for me?”

“No, I’m just modeling it on you. Course it’s for you. You never dress warmly enough except for those jumpers.”

“I do too,” Martin retorted, smiling, and then froze as he felt Jon’s hand wander down his chest and underneath the hem of his jumper, fingers stroking the soft belly under his shirt.

“Do you like it?” Jon asked, his hand reaching around his hip to run up his back.

Martin nodded faintly, unsure if he meant the scarf or his touch. Both. It was both.

Jon’s other hand dropped the scarf and the needles and they fell tumbling to the floor as he reached to twine his fingers into Martin’s curls, then leaned up until his lips met Martin’s. His breath hitched again in surprise. They didn’t kiss like this, not at least this intensely. Jon pulled back briefly, his tongue swiping over his lips. His eyes were hooded low and blinking slowly like a cat’s would.

“Is this okay?”

Martin nodded and immediately leaned in until his lips found Jon’s once more. He was met with a low sound emerging from Jon’s throat and felt a dizzying rush as it filled his ears.

“Do I make you feel good?” he murmured, shifting and pulling at Martin’s leg so that he now straddled him fully. Martin gasped as Jon reached down to cup him between his legs, his heart dancing in his throat. He nodded, gasping again, it was all he could do.

“Good.” Jon smiled, his eyes glittering, and Martin all but melted into him, head leaning into his shoulder as Jon slowly unzipped his jeans and reached his hand in fully to cup him again, his thumb rubbing against him.

“I know what you dream about, Martin. You try to hide it, but I still see it. And you don’t need to hide it from me. I want to take care of you. I want to make you feel good.”

Martin moaned, “You do, you make me feel so good, Jon.” But he wanted Jon to feel it too and with fumbling hands he undid Jon’s trousers until he could hold him in his hand and began to stroke. Jon’s eyes fluttered shut and he leaned his head against Martin’s, his breath stuttering out. His intense gaze held onto Martin’s as his fingers quickened, rubbing firmly against him.

“Will you come for me, Martin?”

Martin cried out, edging closer, closer, closer, so close now.

“Martin.”

“Ahh, yes!”

“Martin!”

Someone was shaking him and he cried out and sat up, coated in sweat and shivering, his heart racing like he’d just run a mile. He didn’t need to look down to know that his boxers were thoroughly soaked.

“Martin,” Jon’s voice was quieter this time. Martin took one look at him and promptly burst into tears. Gasping he turned away to bury his face into his pillow.

“Martin…” Jon placed his hand on his back and he shuddered away, curling in on himself into a tight ball.

“Noo,” he moaned, “Stop saying my name like that, I don’t deserve it.”

“It’s okay. It’s fine.”

“No, no it’s not!”

“I know what you dream about, Martin.”

He froze at the familiarity of the phrase. Jon’s hand returned, rubbing along his back. He pulled at his shoulder softly.

“Come here.” There was no heat in it like in the dream, just a gentle coaxing.

“Come here, Martin.”

He weakly sat up and fell into Jon’s arms, his sobs calming to hiccups as Jon’s hands ran soothingly up and down Martin’s arms and back.

“You’re burning up,” Jon whispered, only a touch of surprise in his voice.

“Mm,” he mumbled. It felt good to just be there with him, his cool touch calming the flames licking deep inside him.

“I was wondering...if we should have sex.”

Martin felt his brain stutter to a screeching halt, the sensation of all the moisture leaving his mouth at once.

“What?” he asked faintly.

“Well, I…” Jon paused, seeming unable to get the words out. He cleared his throat and tried again, “Like I said, I know what you’ve been dreaming about.” Even in the dark Martin could see his face reddening. “I’m sorry, I know I said I wouldn’t look into your head. And I’m able to stay out of it mostly, but...these dreams, they are quite intense and, well, it’s harder to control the beholding when I’m attempting to sleep.”

“I’m sorry.”

“No! I’m not blaming you, just you seem very troubled by these dreams. There’s obviously this urge that you’re feeling that’s not being met.”

“Jon, you don’t have to worry, I’m taking care of it.” He had taken to sneaking into the bathroom whenever the urge struck, running the faucet to drown out any sounds.

“God, this is so embarrassing,” he whispered, turning and burying his face into Jon’s shoulder.

“Shh, no it’s not.”

“I just don’t know why I can’t seem to turn my brain off, why these dreams keep happening.”

“Well that’s what I worry about. I-if you were in a relationship with someone else then you would have these needs met that you might not necessarily have with me.”

“Jon, I don’t want to be with anyone else. I want to be with you. What we have together...it’s more than I’d ever thought possible.”

A look of relief crossed Jon’s face as he heard this, looking down at Martin huddled close in his arms.

“Still, I thought that we should at least discuss the possibility of being...intimate...together. I know you say it’s fine, but you still keep having these dreams. And what I’m saying is that I’m open to trying. It’s true that I don’t feel those urges necessarily, I don’t experience that kind of attraction. But I’m not put off at the thought of it, I’m just more...neutral about it. Sex done safely and with consent can be a very loving experience, creating a new intimacy between two people.”

Martin giggled, his voice muffled into Jon’s shoulder.

“What?”

“Mph, sorry you just sound like, I dunno, a sex ed instructor or something.”

“Rude,” Jon sniffed, mock offended, “I’m trying to have a serious conversation here.”

“I know, I know and I’m being very immature about all this. It’s very sweet that you want to discuss it. But I don’t want you to feel obliged just because I’m feeling this way.”

“Martin, I don’t feel obliged. I’m interested in trying it. And I think that the more that you try to resist these urges, the more intense and frequent these dreams are going to become.”

Martin sighed into him, there was something shy but bright in his expression.

“Okay. But, I’d like to start out slow? I’ve never actually...been with anyone before.”  
There was a subtle look of surprise on Jon’s face when he looked down once more at Martin.

“I’m not-it’s not a big deal, it’s just that there wasn’t much time or opportunity for it between taking care of my mum and school and work and then dropping out of school to work full time, you know? I can’t say I prioritized it much either really. And then there’s the matter of my body, it being...different. A-and like I’ve mentioned before, I’m not the smallest guy. I don’t find anything wrong with it, in fact I like it, just, it’s hard to find guys who are into it.”

Jon nodded and laid his cheek against Martin’s curls. “Well, you don’t have to worry about that. Not that I’ve had experience with it either. Don’t tell anyone this but I think you’re rather cute.”

Martin smiled coyly up at him, “Oh, you do, do you?”

“Mmhm. In fact I think you’re quite beautiful.”

‘Stop it, that’s supposed to be my line.”

“Mm, no I don’t think so,” Jon murmured low, and leaned down until his lips found Martin’s, a soft gentle kiss.

Martin had been so caught up in the talk that it actually took him by surprise, feeling sparks surge low in his solar plexus, his breath coming out in a small gasp. He reached to clutch a hand into Jon’s hair, winding his fingers in and tugging slightly. A low sound rumbled out of Jon’s throat, very like a cat’s purr. He pulled back a bit and then bent to press his lips to the side of Martin’s neck, making his way slowly up towards his jaw. Martin’s breath caught in his throat. It was just like in his dream, making him wonder if this was something Jon was inclined to do already or if it was because he’d seen it inside Martin’s head.

His arms wrapped around Martin’s back, tugging him closer as his mouth found his again to bite down on his lip this time, and Martin couldn’t stop a high, helpless sound escaping his throat. He broke out of the kiss briefly, panting.

“Martin?”

“Sorry, just got overwhelmed. Feeling a bit nervous.”

“Yeah...me too.”

“I guess, I mean...we could try at some point, but I’m not sure I’m ready to do that this moment.”

Jon nodded, “Of course. Sorry, I didn’t mean to rush. I don’t really know what I’m doing when it comes to this sort of thing.”

“No! I-I appreciate the trying. The kissing was honestly very nice and I feel very satiated with that right now.”

“You don’t need to…?”

“Oh! N-no, it...kinda already happened? In fact, it did happen. In my sleep.”

“Oh. _Oh_. Oh, right.”

“And the fact that we talked about it. I think that will help to ease these dreams more too now. Thank you for that.”

Jon nodded, pulling Martin into his arms once more and leaning back against the pillow.

Martin sighed, content. He felt himself begin to drift back into sleep and then remembered something from his dream.

“You don’t...you don’t happen to enjoy knitting, do you?”

Jon smiled, a light laughed slipping out. “I do actually. I’ve been an avid knitter since my grandmother taught me when I was little. Why?”

“You were knitting in my dream, which then led into us doing...you know.”

Jon laughed, surprised.  
“Me knitting led to sex in your dream?”

“Yes. I don’t know! I don’t know where these things come from in my dreams!”

Jon smirked, “I can’t fathom how you knew that about me without being an avatar of the Beholding yourself.”

Martin smacked his shoulder lightly, “Oh, shut up. Anyways, knitting’s not scary. The beholding wouldn’t care about knitting.”

“Oh, it could be scary. I’m sure there must be someone out there who has a phobia for sharp, pointy knitting needles.”

“Mm, yeah, probably.”

They both lay there in the dark, contemplating the likelihood of scary knitting needles.

“How come I’ve never seen you knitting before if you’re such an avid knitter?”

“I mostly did it at home. It kind of takes away from the austere professionalism you know.”

“Mm, true,” he said, smiling and nudging his head into the crook of Jon’s shoulder, and finally drifted back into sleep.

And he slept dreamlessly.

**Author's Note:**

> Surprise! It's basically a smut fic without the smut. I intended originally to write a sex scene and then got halfway through writing this and realized I really didn't want to write a sex scene. Hey, that's what happens when you're on the asexual spectrum.
> 
> I might write a second part to this at some point if I'm feeling inspired.
> 
> I'm on Tumblr under the name majorursaminor7 if you wanna come say hi!


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